"_That_'s a normal one," here he indicated a skull on a shelf; "_his_ bones
are all right. But if yours were stripped of the flesh----"

"I shan't be sorry when these sittings are over," I said; then, as I caught
a side view of the clay head, "I _say_! Am I as frightful as that?"

"As frightful as that!" snorted Wilkinson; "why, I've _flattered_ you, if
anything. People never know what they're like. There's such a lot of rotten
vanity knocking about."

When the last sitting was over my wrongs found voice.

"When I first sat to you," I said in a tense tone, "I was comparatively
happy; my self-esteem was in a healthy state; I felt that I was
well-looking at my best, even good-looking. I go from you to-day a broken
man, my confidence shaken, my manners spoiled by the consciousness that my
construction is wrong, that there is 'no drawing' in my face, and that
neither my eyes nor my nostrils are a pair; and, not content with this, you
have darkened my remote future by implying that when it is time for me to
be merely a skull I shall be an absurd one. May Heaven forgive you,
Wilkinson--_I_ never can!"

For some weeks we stood apart, "like cliffs that had been rent asunder,"
and then one day Wilkinson came up and thumped me on the back. "It's always
the unexpected that happens, old thing," he said. "Popplewell's bust was
rejected at once, but yours----"

"Am I _in_?" In my excitement I forgot my wrongs.

"No, not _in_; but you were a _doubtful_. Only think--first doubtful I've
ever had! To have a doubtful sculpture is as good as having two or three
paintings on the line. You can't be such a bad subject after all. I'll have
another touch at you, and next year see if you're not in! Come and have
some lunch."

* * * * *

[Illustration: CANDIDATE FOR MEDICAL DEGREE BEING EXAMINED IN THE SUBJECT
OF "BEDSIDE MANNER."]

* * * * *

"Notable things are done around a table. Corporations are formed...."

_Westminster Teacher._

The beginnings of them, anyway.

* * * * *

[Illustration: AFTER TEN YEARS.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE GREAT EAST AFRICAN PROTECTOR.

"Come under de ole umbrella,
Come along, piccaninnies, do;
Hark to Uncle LULU a-callin',
Room for all ob you!"--_Coon Song._

(Mr. HARCOURT.)]

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLI